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Is There, In Truth, No Beauty
Is There, In Truth, No Beauty
I am the dry path
Sat between
The first rain drops
I am the dandelion
Dancing in a field
Missed by the scythe
I am the spark
That jumps
From flint to straw
I am the breaking wave
Crashing up against
Deserted beaches
I am the words
Caught in the throat
Of dirty liars
I am the light
Crawlin...
Friday 20th March 2020 11:28 pm
Strange Fruit
Strange Fruit
“what is beautiful?”
asks Eliza
for she thinks
that she is not
because they tell her
she is not
“why are they hurtful?”
as if the outside
somehow sullies
what is inside
and insinuates the sour
to what is sweet
“why do they ridicule?”
the size the shape
the roughness of my skin
the growths
the fact my spine
Is out of...
Monday 4th June 2018 12:36 pm
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